The Other Woman (17 page)

At that moment, two cop cars pull up and witness Bradley’s ex-wife going crazy. They grab her and shove her against the wall before they cuff her hands behind her back. Thank God, they arrived just in time.

“I just wanna see my kids,” she says. “That’s all.”

“This is not the way to do it,” a cop says as he frisks her.

“He won’t take my calls.”

“She abandoned her kids in a mall and now she wants to see them,” I shout to the cops. “We don’t trust her with them. Look at her. Just look at how belligerent she is. You’ve witnessed it yourself.”

The cops nod and steer her into the back seat of a cop car.

Bradley and I stand at the front door and talk to the cops. Around us, neighbours in night attire gather and whisper among themselves.

“I don’t really want to press charges,” Bradley says, one hand on his hip, the other on his head. “She’s—”

“Bradley, you have to,” I urge. “Honey, what if she ret—”

“Well, you don’t have to,” the cop says. “Since you’ve had a relationship with your attacker, we will apply for an Apprehended Domestic Violence Order. It’ll just keep you safe from threats, stalking, and harassment.”

“Oh, thank you officer,” I gush. “We don’t want to do this, but we have no choice. I mean, we have two children.”

“Those are my children!” Rival yells through the cop car window. “Stop saying ‘we.’ You don’t have children. You stole my children, you slut!”

I give her a tough-shit smile. “She’s really drunk, and probably high,” I say.

“I’m not drunk and I’m not high. I just wanna see my children, that’s all.”

“And she’s been stalking me on Facebook, officer. She called herself Linda Matthews, but I sniffed her out right away. She’s obsessed with me. I’m really scared of her. We all are.”

The cop walks over to Rival. “I need you to be quiet.”

“You will pay for this, Scarlett!” she screams, ignoring the cop. “You too, Bradley. Just wait and see. Karma has a way of visiting. Just you wait and see.”

My response is to stand behind Bradley and wave at her, a smug smile on my face.

Bradley, to my ire, is really quiet and looking distressed.

“How could you do this to me, Bradley?” Rival asks, fake tears running down her face.

“You were my husband for more than eight years. You promised to grow old with me. How can you stand and look at me like that? Even though you want someone else, where is your sense of fairness?”

“She’s talking absolute rubbish,” I say.

I watch with mortification as Bradley walks over to the cop car and looks at her. “I’m sorry, Rival,” he says in a pained voice. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. I care about you. Get well, and we’ll talk, okay?” He reaches into the car through the window and wipes away her tears. “I promise.”

“Bradley!” I hiss.

“I don’t want to press charges,” he says to the officers standing nearby, ignoring me. “She’s ill. Just escort her home if you can, but don’t charge her. Please.”

“Bradley, come back.”

He looks at me with a frown on his face.

“Bradley, the kids—”

It is then that he turns and walks toward me.

I can’t believe it. What just happened? How fickle is Bradley? First he shoves me, violently at that, then he touches her face and begs the cops not to charge her?

Betrayed. That’s how I feel. Utterly betrayed.

****

RITCHIE

It’s eleven at night, and I’m returning home from an afternoon of fishing. The kids are with Liefie, and Girly’s at her sister’s for the night. I am looking forward to a long, hot shower to wash away the smell of bait, a single malt whisky, and maybe watching a movie on TV.

I’m hungry, but I resist the temptation to stop at a McDonald’s drive-through.

I’ve been on a health kick and have been jogging in an attempt to try and lose my paunch. And to clear the cobwebs of mild depression by summoning endorphins.

But I’m too tired to cook a healthy meal, so I guess it will have to be a sandwich. Bland tuna or a dry cheese. At times like this I wish I still lived with Liefie. I still miss her cooking. Too bad, she’s taken it all to Vlad.

Just as I pull into my street my phone buzzes. I frown when Arena’s name flashes on my screen. I answer right away. “Arena?”

“Ritchie?” Arena says just one word, yet I hear the fear in her voice.

Quickly, I slow down. “What is it, ’Rena?”

“Rival’s been picked up by the cops.”

“For…what?”

“She…well, apparently she went over to talk to Bradley. He…wouldn’t talk to her. She threw a potted plant into the window and she—”

“Oh, fuck!”

“—started swearing and cussing, using language…and the cops were called and…”

“But…like, she was doing so well.”

“Yeah, well…that’s what I thought.”

“Damn! Where’s she now?”

“At the police station. They aren’t pressing charges because Bear spoke to one of his cop friends and explained that she’s a patient of Dunhill. Long story short, they’re willing to release her into my custody until she sees her doctor on Monday. But I’m here in Canberra, and it’ll take us hours to pack, round up the kids, and—”

“No, no, that’s not—”

“Well, Bear explained to one of his cop friends that we’re out of Sydney, but that he’ll send a family member to pick her up. Will you go?”

“Eh…” I let out a long breath. “Arena, look, I don’t mind going, but you know she doesn’t like me. Won’t even look at me when I talk to—”

“No time to worry ’bout that,
boet.
She needs help. You don’t have to talk to her, just pick her up and keep her with you until she’s calm again. Please!”

I silently picture Rival’s scowling face. So much for not drinking. She’s probably a closet alcoholic who has everyone fooled.

“Or else we have to cut short Amy’s visit with her moth—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go right away.” I end the call, turn my Jeep around, and race over to the local police station where Rival is being detained in a holding room.

Rival’s face is red and tear stained. She sits with her mouth curled downward, her eyes to the floor.

“Hey,” I whisper.

Slowly, her eyes lift to look at me.

“You okay?”

She doesn’t answer, just looks away.

“Arena called me.”

No answer.

“They will release you into my care, if I agree to take you into Dunhill on Monday morning. To see your doctor. That okay?”

Silence.

“Okay…then. I’ll…I’ll eh, tell them it’s all arranged?”

No response.

Unsure what to do, I shift around in my sneakers for a few moments. “Be right back,” I finally say, and walk over to the police officers on duty, where I fill in the necessary forms to have her released into my care.

Minutes later I return to Rival. “All done. You’re free to leave. Ready?”

Without a word, she stands up and walks past me, out of the holding cell and into the parking lot.

“You’re welcome,” I mutter as I trail behind her.

As we drive in taut silence, I sneak glances at her. Her eyes are fixed firmly on the dashboard of the Jeep, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her lips pressed together.

“Wanna talk about it?”

She shakes her head.

“Okay.”

Another few moments of tense silence. I expected some hostility from her, but this much?

“Can I get you anything?” I ask a few minutes later. “Some bottled wat—”

“A drink.” Her answer is immediate. “I need a drink.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be drinking, Rival.”

She glares at me.

“I can’t get you a drink. It’s not a good…” The angry look on her face has me faltering. “I don’t wanna lecture you, Rival, but—”

“You’re what – my
guardian
? My dad?” As she talks, her head jerks around, her eyes bulge, and her voice is an angry hiss.

“No, no, I’m just say—”

“Don’t!”

I sigh. “You need to listen to me if you don’t wanna get into more trouble, Rival.”

“Trouble?” She glares at me. “Do you really think I care about getting into more trouble? Huh? I’m rattled and I’m asking you for a drink and you say no?”

“Well…I…”

“You say no? Huh? Have you ever been distraught enough to
need
a drink?”

Before I can answer, she throws open the door of the Jeep – while we are still moving. Mortified, I slam on the brakes. “What the fuck, Rival?”

When she tries to get out of the Jeep, I lunge at her, grab her by the scruff of her neck and jerk her toward me. “Stop this!”

“Leave me alone!” she yells as she rams her elbow into my ribs.

Even though pain tears through me, I hold onto her with one hand, and with the other, try to bring the Jeep to a halt on the shoulder of the road. “Stop this shit, Rival.”

“Leave me alone you thief!” She screeches and claws at my face, missing my eyes by an inch, forcing me to release her.

Just as the Jeep stops, she jumps out of it, leaves the door hanging, and strides ahead.

“Rival!” I shout through the open window as I cruise the Jeep alongside her. “What the hell’s wrong with you, you craz…?” I stop just in time.

“Yeah, I’m crazy,” she says as she continues walking. “Crazy, but not a thief, okay? I don’t steal from the disabled and I don’t aid and abet, Ritchie Mac
Foul
. No wonder Girly calls you a pig – you stink.”

“It’s the bait!” I cry. “I was out fishing. And she’s means Pig as in—”

“Yeah, right. Bet you’re useless at it.”

“Hey!” Now that is below the belt. “For your information, I happen to be good at fishing,” I say, even though I didn’t catch anything.

“Useless at squash, useless at fishing,” she mumbles.

“What? Bradley told you that? Seriously? We
draw
on squash, I’ll have you…” I let out a breath of exasperation. “Rival, get in the goddamn Jeep! I need to take a shower.”

“Go, then." She flicks her wrist at me as she continues walking. “I don’t need your help. Go join Scarlett and Bradley. I’m sure they need someone to fix their window and—”

“Shaddup, Rival! You act like the world owes you something. You think you’re the only one with grief? You’re not, so get your arse back into the Jeep and try to be an adult about it. Stop acting like a—”

She flashes her middle finger at me. “Go home to your Celine Dion CDs.”

“What?”

“Never met a man who has Celine Dion’s entire collection,” she mumbles.

“Hey, I bought those because of Liefie. I couldn’t find a song she liked and – man…this is just cra—”

She stops, spins around, and glares at me. “Fuck you! I am
not
crazy.”

“No, fuck you!” I say, her insults and shitty attitude getting to me. “Just get back into—”

“NO!” she walks faster, forcing me to drive faster behind her even though the passenger side of the Jeep is still open. “Fine, I’m gonna have to call the cops.”

Of course I’m not going to call the cops, but I’m pretty freaked out right now with her erratic behavior. And a little scared I may have lost control of the situation.

She stops, turns around, and snarls, “Call the cops, you dirty dog! You think I’m scared to go to jail? Huh? I’m not. I don’t care if I go to jail, ’cause at least there, I will have an excuse as to
why
I can’t be normal, why I can’t have a home, a husband, my children…yeah, roll your eyes at me you fucking arsehole! Had it not been for you, I would have a chance with my kids. You and I both know that if you had not witnessed that power of attorney and
backdated
it, Bradley—”

“He would still be able to gain custody, Rival. He was protecting his family.” I look ahead at the group of homeless people gathered in the dark. This could be dangerous.

When I look back at Rival, she has a rock in her hand, raised and ready to throw it through the open window at me.

I slam on the brakes and hold out my hand. “Rival…Rival…put…down…that…rock.”

“You were complicit,” she hisses, as she creeps toward me.

If she throws that rock at me, she might crack my skull. I switch to the voice my hostage negotiator used to use back in my SWAT days. “Let’s just talk about it. You still want that drink, Rival? Vodka? Wine? Bet you’re hungry and—”

“Because of your aiding and abetting, I am without…
everything
,” she says, ignoring my hostage negotiator voice and my offer for a drink she recently demanded. “And I constantly think of ending it all, because what is there to live for?”

“Stop!” I say, horrified at her words, my eyes darting between her face and the rock poised in the air, ready to strike at either me or my Jeep.

God, please, not my Jeep. That will really fuck up the lovely paintwork.

She inches further, her eyes bulging. “The Gap. I want to throw myself off the Gap and say, ‘here goes nothing,’ because that’s what I have become – a nothing!”

“Would you stop talking like that?! This talk, it’s—”

“—Crazy?” she finishes. “Yeah, Ritchie Mac
Bastard
, I may just have gone bananas.”

“I didn’t say that. Put the rock down. Please. Violence is never the answer.” I know I sound like Ghandi, but I have my paintwork to think about. “Let’s just sit down and have a civil con—”

“Imagine if you were driving, and you were involved in a car collision, and
your
three children were suddenly killed.” She snaps her fingers, “Ally, gone, Becky, gone, Gareth…gone! All of them disappear as if they never happened. How would you—”

“Okay, okay, I get—”

“—feel. Would you –?”

“—it Rival!”

“—want to throw yourself off The Gap? And do you think at some point, YOU’D feel like a drink?"

She is right. I nod. “Okay. You got me—”

“I haven’t had a drink in almost a year, and today is Mother’s Day. I am a m…mother; I deserve a phone c…call or a card.” Her face contorts with pain as she lowers the rock, her shoulders sagging. “I got nothing, and inside, I bleed. Today, I broke. And the pain was so intense that I wanted to numb it. That’s why I drank.”

“Look, I’m sorr—”

“And you, you sit there with that judgmental look on your face, probably feeling sorry for Bradley for having to put up with someone like me.”

“No, you got it wrong, Rival.”

She stares at me for a moment, before she suddenly takes off.

“Rival! Come back!” I yell as I maneuver the Jeep to a standstill and turn off the ignition.

Quickly, I get out of the Jeep, lock the doors, and race to find her. It’s dark, and I can’t see her anywhere. Panic soars through my weary self. “Arena’s gonna kill me if I lose you,” I say as I run into the dark.